


Easter Fools

by comebacknow



Series: The Maze Runner Takes a Holiday [2]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: April Fools, April Fools Day, Easter, Easter Eggs, Easter dinner, F/F, Frypan just wants a normal dinner, M/M, i don't know anyones ages, minho kept five jello shots on the side for himself, newtmas - Freeform, newtmas baked cupcakes behind the scenes and there was probably frosting everywhere, sonyarriet, sonyarriet are domestic and in tune and cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 19:40:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14172054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comebacknow/pseuds/comebacknow
Summary: It's April 1st which means one thing - April Fools.  But Frypan doesn't care about that.  It's also Easter and all he wants to do is cook a nice dinner for his friends.  It'd be an easy thing if his friends weren't...who they are.  Newt and Thomas are still attached at the mouth, Minho is probably going to get drunk again, Brenda isn't helping when she encourages him, and on top of that Gally is going to insult his cooking? If it weren't for little Chuck being there, nor his new neighbor and friend, Fry would be saying some very choice words.





	Easter Fools

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of fun with Holiday scenarios. I also have a lot of fun over-embellishing characters. Happy Easter everyone. 
> 
> And happy April Fool's Day as well ;]
> 
>  
> 
> *can be read as a one-shot, but there are certainly references to the previous holiday one-shot: Bagpipes & Boyfriends, if you'd like to check that out first. :]

 

* * *

 

 

 

            “What’s the address again?”

            Thomas rolled his eyes.  “Come on, Gally, I put it in your phone like two hours ago.”

            “What if it dies on me?”

            “Lucky phone,” Newt murmured.

            “It’s not gonna die,” Thomas said, biting down on his laugh.

            “Whatever,” Gally zipped his coat up and pulled the door open.  “Don’t be late.”

            “We won’t, oh my god.”  Thomas rolled his eyes as Gally left the apartment. He turned back to where Newt was seated on the arm of the sofa, legs dangling, mischief in his eyes. 

            “Not _too_ late, anyway,” Newt smirked.

            Thomas at least had the decency to let him finish his sentence before crossing the room and pushing him back down onto the couch beneath him.

 

 

 

            The door opened and Gally nearly choked at the sight of Frypan in bunny ears.  “What the hell is on your head.”

            “Happy Easter to you too, Gally.  Come on in,” Fry laughed.

            Gally’s eyes twitched down slightly to Fry’s “Hot Crossed Bun(nies)” apron before he stepped around him, entering the house, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline.

            “Gally!”

            He looked up to see Chuck running toward him, arms spread, before barreling into him.

            “Hey Chuck-o.” He slung an arm around the younger boy and walked with him down the hall toward the kitchen.  He lifted the plastic bag in his head.  “Got the eggs for you.  You gotta promise not to peek when we hide them this year, though.”

            “Gally, I’m the only one who ever takes part in this hunt.  It’s boring. Besides, I’m too old for it.” Chuck shoved Gally’s arm off of him.

            “There’s money in them.”

            “I promise I won’t look this year!”

            Gally laughed as the boy jogged off to the other room.

            “Yo!”

            Gally looked up to see Minho walking through from the sliding glass door leading to the back porch.  He tossed a beer over to Gally in way of greeting.

            “You the one who convinced Fry to wear that awful apron?”

            “No,” Minho smirked.  “It was the same person who convinced you to wear that awful kilt.”

            Gally shook his head.  He would never live that down.

            “Where are the lovebirds?” Fry asked, coming back into the kitchen.

            “Please don’t call them that,” Minho sighed. “You’ll only encourage their excessive PDA.”

            “They said they wouldn’t be late,” Gally shrugged. “Don’t know what that’s worth.”

            “Nothing, probably,” Minho said into his glass.

            “I’m off to hide the eggs for Chuck,” Gally lifted the plastic bag in explanation and excused himself out to the backyard.

 

 

            Frypan opened the oven and waved the heat out of his face before squinting to look at the turkey roasting.  Using the mitt, he pulled the oven’s shelf out and prodded the turkey with a long fork.  He allowed himself a smile before pushing it back into the oven and closing the door to it. “Lookin’ good!”

            “Hey, Fry!”

            He turned as he heard Brenda’s voice from the hall.  “Come on in, Bren! We’re in the kitchen!”  He turned to the table where Minho finished his drink.  “Go help her.”

            Minho tossed his head back, reluctantly standing and dragging himself toward the hall.

            Fry shook his head, turning back to the stove, stirring a pot of mashed potatoes.  He heard the ruckus of plastic bags and footsteps getting closer and turned toward the sound, jaw immediately dropping.  “Brenda, what the hell? I said bring an appetizer!”

            Brenda nearly fell over on the table, three trays of something balanced on a much larger tin tray.

            Minho entered the kitchen a second later, a cardboard box of bottles in his arms.  “Thank God she didn’t listen.”

            “Jorge said I could take whatever I needed,” Brenda shrugged. “Restaurant was slow anyway.  They’re not missing any of this.”

            Frypan pointed at her with his mixing spoon.  “This is not going to be like one of your college parties.  We are respectable adults now and it’s _Easter_.”

            He watched Brenda and Minho exchange a brief glance before they started unloading the cardboard box.

 

 

            Gally hid the last egg behind the pool in a particularly big tuft of grass, balled up the plastic bag in his hand and made his way back toward the porch.  “That should do it.”

            “Chuck’s gonna have a great time,” Sonya smiled.  “I can’t wait to watch him running around.”

            “What time is dinner again?” Harriet asked her, a slight tug to her hand where their fingers were interlocked and hanging between the armrests of their chairs.

            Sonya checked the thin watch on her wrist and looked back up to Harriet. “Should be within an hour.”  She turned in her chair then, stretching to look through the sliding glass door behind them as Brenda and Minho walked out to join them.  “Gally, is my brother coming?”

            Brenda snorted. “Probably.”

            “Nope,” Minho said to himself, turning on the spot and walking back inside.

            “His skinny ass better get here soon! Chuck’s getting antsy!” Frypan called from the window.

            Sonya stretched and reached into her pocket, but came up empty.  “Babe, do you have my phone?”

            Harriet let a small laugh out as she leaned down to her purse on the floor and pulled Sonya’s phone out.  “You nearly left it at your apartment, then in the car, then inside.  You’re lucky I keep an eye out for you.”

            “I’m lucky for you in general,” Sonya smiled, taking the phone.

            “That’s adorable,” Brenda said, sitting on the arm of one of the chairs.

            “Brenda!”

            She immediately stood at Frypan’s voice, rolled her eyes, and sat in the chair normally.

            Harriet laughed as Sonya started dialing.  “Is he strict about his chairs?”

            “Only cuz she broke the arm off one last time she did that,” Gally supplied from where he stood on the edge of the deck, tossing the balled-up plastic bag back and forth between his hands.

            “Shut up, kilt.”

            He lobbed the bag at her head.  “Honestly, are you ever going to drop that?”

            “Never.”

            “Newt! What the hell?” Sonya yelled into her phone.  “Where are you? We’re all waiting for you before we let Chuck do the egg hunt!”

            There was a pause as she listened on the phone, rolled her eyes, stuck her tongue out to portray throwing up, and then finally snapped a “ _hurry up_.”  She clicked the End button and tossed her phone onto the table.

            “Do I want to know?” Harriet laughed, grabbing the phone and tossing it back into her purse.

            “ _I_ don’t even wanna know,” Sonya shook her head.

           

 

            “Babe, _please_!” Thomas laughed.  “I’m trying to park.”

            “But you look so good when you drive,” Newt smiled, falling back into the passenger’s seat.  There was something about the lines in Thomas’ neck as the boy turned in his seat to reverse into a spot.  His smile on top of that just about did Newt over.

            He finally pushed the gear shift into Park and turned off the ignition, and Newt immediately reached over again to press his lips to Thomas’ neck.  He reveled in the small growl that escaped Thomas’ throat before he felt a hand in his hair, pulling him back just a bit.

            “Your sister is going to kill us if she has to call a _fourth_ time.”

            Newt groaned, but pulled himself back from Thomas.

            “Later,” Thomas promised with a wink before stepping out of the car.

            Newt followed suit and the two met again at the trunk and Thomas lifted it to grab their Easter additions.  He reached over and pressed his lips to Newt’s cheek before he made his way toward the house.  Newt grabbed the second bag, closed the trunk, and caught up with Thomas, linking their fingers together.

 

 

            “We’re here!” Thomas called out, closing the front screen door behind them.

            “Thomas!” Chuck greeted him the same way he greeted everyone.

            “Hey, Chuck.”

            “Finally! I was waiting for you before I went on the hunt!”

            “Great! Can’t wait to watch!” Thomas placed the bag he had on the table next to Newt’s and the two of them nodded a greeting to Frypan.

            “Head on out to the backyard, I’ll be there in a sec!”

            The boys walked outside to join the group at the patio table.

            “’Sup?” Brenda asked, squinting up at them.

            “Hey, Thomas!” Sonya lifted her head back to look at him where he stood behind her chair.

            “Hey, Sonya,” he smiled, then shifted his eyes.  “Harriet, how are you?”

            “I’m good, thanks!”

            “Hey, Sonnie,” Newt leaned down to kiss his sister on the cheek before turning to do the same to Harriet.

            Harriet smiled in return. “What took you two so long?”

            “Please don’t,” Gally held a hand up.  “For all of our sakes, do not ask.”

            Sonya buried her face in her tea.

            “Relax, Gally,” Newt murmured as he stepped around him toward the cooler.  He added soft enough for only Gally to hear, “we kept it to the dining room table this time.”

            “Oh, fuck no.”

            Thomas snickered as Brenda backhanded Gally’s arm and mumbled something about language.

            “Jell-o shots!” Minho walked out onto the porch carrying a tray of multicolored mini jell-o cups. 

            “Right on time,” Gally murmured.

            “I know ya’ll aren’t taking those without me! I’ll be out in a minute!” Fry’s voice came through the window.  “Gotta grab the door quickly!”

            “I thought we left it open?” Thomas said, picking a shot from Minho’s tray.

            “I thought everyone was already here,” Minho shrugged, passing the tray to Newt.

            “I think he mentioned something about inviting one of his neighbors,” Sonya said, refusing a shot as the tray made its rounds.

            “Oh right, what was his name again?” Harriet asked, taking a shot for herself.

            “Can I have one?” Chuck asked, eyeing the tray.

            “Uh,” Brenda stammered. “You won’t like these, Chuck. They’re sour.”

            “I like sour stuff.”

            “They’re sweet,” Minho attempted.

            “Even better!”

            “Come on, Chuck,” Sonya laughed, dropping Harriet’s hand.  “You and I will sneak some regular ones from the kitchen.” She shuffled the boy inside.

            “Jesus, you two can’t wait one second after she walks away?” Brenda asked.

            Thomas smiled into Newt’s kiss, snaking an arm around his waist.

            “Sorry, Fry.  Waiting period just ended,” Minho said, lifting his jell-o shot in salute before downing it whole and grabbing another.

            Newt rose a brow at him from over Thomas’ shoulder, as Thomas’ lips trailed down the boy’s neck. “Seems we’re not the only ones bad at waiting.”

            “You’re bad at everything,” Minho answered.

            “Mmm, very bad,” Thomas murmured onto his skin.

            “Hey guys,” Fry said, coming out onto the deck.

            “Thank God,” Minho lifted his next jell-o shot.  “Cheers.”  He tossed his head back with the shot.

            “Everyone, this is Ben,” Fry gestured to his friend next to him.  “Ben, this is everyone.”

            “Hey Ben,” Brenda squinted up at him, waving with her shot.

            “Jell-o shot?” Minho asked, taking two more before extending the tray toward him.

            “Uh, sure,” he laughed.

            “Oh, don’t mind them,” Brenda laughed as Ben’s gaze fell on Newt and Thomas, their foreheads pressed together whispering something back and forth to each other.  “They orbit in their own universe.  Sometimes, we’re lucky enough to be graced with their presence.”

            “Lucky enough doesn’t begin to cover it,” Newt said, turning toward her, allowing Thomas full access to his neck again.  His eyes shifted to Ben now. “Nice to meet you.” He pulled back a bit from Thomas and used two fingers to tilt Thomas’ head toward Ben.  “Say hello, Tommy,” he purred.

            “Hey, Ben.”

            “Pleasure,” Ben nodded awkwardly.

            Thomas barely got out his mischievous grin before Minho banged a fist on the table, cutting him off.  “Time for shots!”

            Everyone reached toward the center of the table, pushing tiny plastic shot-cups together and downing the bits of jell-o.

            A moment later, nearly everyone was spitting the jell-o back into their cups, tongues out, faces contorted in disgust.

            “What the hell is in here?”

            “This is disgusting!”

            “Why is it so _sour?_ ”

            “Is it coated with _salt_?”

            “April fools,” Minho smirked.

 

 

            Chuck sprinted around the backyard, unearthing plastic eggs from hiding spaces.  Every time he found a new one, he ran up to Gally asking how many were left.

            “Four more, Chuck!”

            And off he ran.

            “Alright,” Fry settled into one of the plastic chairs.  “Turkey is cooling, veggies are finishing up.  We should be eating in ten minutes.”

            “Great, I’m starving,” Brenda said, stretching.

            “Found another one!”

            “Great, Chuck. Three more!”

            Newt leaned forward, grabbing another handful of pretzels, simultaneously earning a sharp intake of breath from Thomas.

            Gally pressed his fingers into the corners of his eyes, “seriously?”

            “What?” Newt smirked, leaning back into Thomas on the chair.

            “There are several chairs,” Minho answered.

            Newt shrugged. “Why sit on a chair when I can sit on-”

            “Ben!” Brenda shouted over the end of Newt’s sentence.

            Ben turned to Brenda, brows raised. "Excuse me?"  
  
            Frypan sighed.  "Didn't I tell you guys about yelling out random names at bad times?"  
  
            Brenda waved his comment away, continuing. “How are you?”

            Ben stifled a laugh as he answered.  “I’m good.  Off work today, thankfully.  Glad I could make it by.”

            “Where do you work?” Gally asked.

            “I freelance.  Construction, mostly.”

            “Oh, nice.  I’m in architecture.”

            “Really?” Ben raised his brows.  “I’ve always wanted to go into that.”

            “I know what I wanna go into,” Newt murmured just loud enough for Brenda to choke.

            “ _Babe._ ”

            “Please for the love of God,” Gally pleaded. “Someone bring Sonya and Harriet back out here.”

            “They’re setting up the table,” Fry laughed.  “As soon as Chuck’s done we can head inside.”

            “Don’t,” Minho said, eyeing Newt.

            Newt shrugged innocently.  “I wasn’t gonna say anything.”

            “I was,” Thomas smirked into his shoulder.

             “Found another!”

            “Great Chuck, two more to go!”

            “You two aren’t gonna share a seat while we eat, right?” Minho asked.  “I’d like to keep my food down.”

            Newt huffed a small laugh. “You’re a swallower now, are ya, Minho?”

            Brenda nearly fell off her chair, Ben choked on a pretzel and Gally closed his eyes, taking a long breath.

            “ _Newt_.”

            “What? Aris and Sonya are friends,” Newt shrugged.

            “ _Oh my God.”_   There was a loud scrape as Minho pushed his chair back.  “I’m opening the vodka.”

            “Please,” Brenda laughed.

            “I don’t know why I bother pretending this won’t end up with the vodka opened,” Fry laughed.

            “Do your parties usually go like this?” Ben asked.

            “Worse,” Gally answered.

            “If they’re so bad, why do you come?” Ben laughed.

            “He has nothing better to do,” Brenda answered.

            “Be _cause_ ,” Gally started, “I enjoy holidays.”

            “He enjoys my cooking,” Fry answered.

            “I enjoy anyone’s cooking.”

            “You don’t enjoy my cooking,” Thomas said, pulling back from the line of kisses he had been placing along Newt’s neck.

            “I don’t enjoy anything of yours,” Gally retorted.

            “No worries,” Thomas smirked. “Newt enjoys it enough for everyone.”

            “Every fuckin’ time,” Minho murmured to himself, spinning around in the doorway and heading straight back inside.

            “Found another!”

            “Great, Chuck!” Gally said, running a hand down his face.  “One more!”

            “Wait a second,” Brenda looked to Gally now.  “That’s twenty eggs he’s found.”

            Gally stared at Brenda a moment. “Yes?”

            “One more? What kind of pack has an odd number of eggs.”

            “None.”

            “Gally, you didn’t,” Fry sighed, head in his hands.

            Gally shrugged. “It’s April Fool’s.  Let him hunt for a while.”

            Ben smirked into his drink.

 

 

           

            “Can you just pick a goddamned seat?”

            “I don’t wanna sit next to them,” Minho insisted, arms crossed.

            “Sit _down_ , Minho.” Fry yanked Minho’s arm and pulled him down onto the chair next to him.

            “I deal with it enough at home.”

            “Hear, hear,” Gally raised his glass.

            Ben laughed. “I think it’s cute.  When did they start dating? Recently?”

            “Technically, yes,” Fry tilted his head. “But they’ve been in love literally as long as we can remember.”

            “Funny enough we’re all at fault for getting them together in the first place,” Brenda added.

            “Speak for yourself.”

            “Please, Gally.  You’re the one who let Newt stay over your apartment with Thomas nearly every night.”

            “I did not start this.”

            “Oh, leave ‘em alone,” Sonya chirped up. “They’re twitterpated.”  She smiled as she linked her fingers through Harriet’s. 

            “Yeah, if we’re lucky enough, we’ll all find someone who makes us that happy,” Ben smiled.

            “Right,” Gally took a deep breath.  “Should we eat?”

            “Relax,” Brenda smacked his hand.  “The least we can do is wait for them.”

            “You’ve never actually had to wait for them for anything, have you?” Gally eyed her.

            “At least bring the wine with you!” Minho called toward the kitchen.

            “Calm down, you twat,” Newt said walking into the dining room.  “We were just getting the eggs set up for painting after dinner.

            “The wine?” Minho repeated.

            Thomas placed a bottle in front of Minho before placing the rest along the table.

            “Alright,” Fry said as the boys took a seat.  “Dig in, and I don’t wanna hear _one_ complaint.”

           

 

            An hour later, the group was leaning back in their seats, plates empty and groans full. 

            “Fry, that was amazing,” Brenda said, stretching her arms over her head.

            “You act shocked every time,” he laughed.

            “I _am_ shocked every time,” Gally added.

            “Yeah,” Minho laughed. “Almost as shocked as I was at seeing Gally in a kilt.”

            “Wait, what?” Ben asked.

            “For fuck’s sake, Minho.”

            “It _was_ rather amusing,” Harriet shrugged.

            Sonya rested her head on the girl’s shoulder, lacing their fingers together.

            “I’m never coming here again,” Gally sighed.

            “Can’t relate.”

            “ _Thomas_.”

 

 

            Sonya sighed, rinsing another dish in the sink.  “I swear, they’re not _always_ like this.”  She handed the dish to Harriet, who placed it in the dishwasher.

            “Babe, this was great.  I love your friends.”

            “Don’t say things you’ll regret, I’ll drag you along every holiday.”

            Sonya felt an arm snake around her waist, another hand moving her hair before lips pressed to her neck. Harriet’s chin rested on her shoulder as she spoke.  “I don’t say things I don’t mean, you know that.  I’d love to come along to your holidays.  Every single one.”

            Sonya smiled, craning her head back to smile into another kiss.  “Now you’re in for it.”

 

 

            In the other room, Gally reached across the table for another egg.

            “No, no!” Chuck said.  “The one next to it.”

            “Alright, alright.”  Gally moved his hand to choose the egg Chuck pointed to and handed it over to him.  “What’s this one gonna be?”

            “I’m gonna make it a cat.”

            “Alright.”

            “You like cats, Chuck?” Ben asked, peeling the paper cup from the cupcake.

            “Yeah, I like dogs better, but they’re harder to paint.”

            “Oh, I’m sure you can do it,” Ben said over a mouthful of frosting.

            Gally smiled up at him before turning back to Chuck.  “Come on, Chuck, show him what you’ve got.”

            “Okay,” Chuck shrugged, unconvinced.  “But if it comes out like a Griever, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

            Fry bit into his own cupcake, brows furrowed.  “What’s a griever?”

            “They’re these monsters I dreamt about once.”

            Gally shook his head at Frypan. _Don’t ask._

            Fry shrugged.

            “These cupcakes are delicious, guys,” Brenda said, reaching for a third.

            “Yeah,” Minho laughed.  “Looks like you did something right for once.”

            Newt smirked into Thomas’ kiss as he responded, “must be the almond oil.”

           

           

           


End file.
